


Toppled Corinthians

by GrayscalePigeon



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Death, Flashbacks, Gen, Jaegers (Pacific Rim)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 18:56:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4447898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrayscalePigeon/pseuds/GrayscalePigeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kennedy LaRue and Stephanie Lanphier go out on their final mission, as recalled by their human!Jaeger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toppled Corinthians

**Author's Note:**

> A piece I wrote in 45 minutes on the ride home. No editing/no expansion once I got off the train. (Sorry if the formatting is strange - this is the first story I'm posting here).
> 
> I play a human!, Hydra Corinthian in a small RP group. I keep dabbling with headcanons involving Kennedy/Stephanie and what aspects of them Hydra took on.
> 
> This is one of my ideas for how her pilots died. Condensed to a 45 minute script.

          "So, what do you remember?"  
  
          She hated that question, and had left almost as soon as it was asked. Gottlieb had the best of intentions, but she hated to remember it. The shame of her breakdown in the laser tag arena was still so fresh that it stung, but even more than that the dull ache of just not knowing why her pilots hadn't come back and others had - that she had failed to save them - that perhaps she had failed so utterly that return was impossible -   
  
          She found herself on the beach, the hated shoreline, her toes buried in sand still warm from the afternoon sun. Her legs were hugged close to her chest, and she had her chin resting on her knees. She stared out absently into the horizon, quietly watching the sky's sunset blush fade to the soft, rosy purple hues of twilight. She loved the sky - or was it one of her pilots who loved the sky?  
  
          "What do you remember?"  
  
          Too much.   
  
          The Kaiju's name was Mantis, but Kennedy insisted on calling it The Crawdad due to the pincers. It was wading toward shore; was within spitting distance of Panama's miracle mile. It should have been an easy kill.   
  
          They were dispatched at 3:06 AM. A frantic city watched; a proud city cheered. Hydra Corinthian, Kennedy LaRue, and Stephanie Lanphier - their heroes, their saviors. The helicopters brought them out to an interception point about a mile out from that fatal ring and dropped them; they landed hard, but recovered well. Kennedy, the lead pilot, did a quick check - all systems were go. As always, before a battle, she murmured a soft prayer; Stephanie did nothing, staring ahead grimly, waiting.   
  
          The silence seemed to stretch for hours, but it was really seconds before their radar beeped. The pilots took full control, snapped to attention, and waited for impact.   
  
          "You got one mile, girls. Make it count."  
  
          "Keep the coffee hot, Marshal. You know how Ken eats after a victory."  
  
          A quiet laugh on the other side, and then silence. Five hundred meters and closer. Three hundred. Two. One.  
  
          "Ready, girls?" Kennedy always asked them both - her Stephanie and her Hydra. They crouched, one hand slightly held out in front of them, the other resting casually - but clenched into a tight fist. The waves were smashing against Hydra's legs, the bow of the large one heralding The Crawdad finally visible. The pilots honed in on that blue glow, taut as bowstrings.   
  
          The Crawdad exploded out of the water like a cannonball, and only Stephanie's lightning reflexes saved them. The clenched fist exploded up, pounding against the bottom jaw of that gaping maw, slamming teeth together with a painful snap. The Kaiju's lower arms snatched out, grabbing onto Hydra - claws sank in for a hold, and both girls grimaced.   
  
          "Oh, fuck you," Ken growled. Electricity crackled along her arm and she pounded the thing in the face repeatedly. It shrieked, holding on tighter for a horrifying moment before its claws loosened for a split second - which they felt. Both arms exploded out with terrific force, ripping the kaiju from Hydra's body. It crumpled into the sea, giving Ken and Stephanie a short reprieve. All systems were normal, despite the damage.   
  
          "Why ain't it bringing out the pincers?"  
  
          "Dunno, Stephanie." She reached out and hit a few buttons on the holo screen, deploying a long blade from her arm. It, too, crackled with electricity, and they waded toward the recovering kaiju, wary. "But let's finish this damn thing and get home."  
  
          "Fine by me."  
  
          The Crawdad had recovered and whirled around. Ken wound her arm back, Stephanie stretched hers out as a defense, and they went in for the kill.   
  
          They didn't stand a chance.   
  
          The kaiju stood still, watching. Stephanie balked slightly, confused as to its lack of momentum; Ken was wary, but determined.   
  
          "Come on," she hissed.  
  
          Famous last words, they say.   
  
          Like a bullet, those pincers snapped out. Not even Stephanie had time to react. The blow against the chest plate was brutal, and as they recoiled they took hold of the sword arm and twisted it. Ken shrieked, fighting to regain control. Stephanie pounded at it again and again, frantic yet controlled enough to bash its eyes and face.   
  
          One pincer snapped out, took hold of the blade, and forcefully broke it from the arm.   
  
          "LaRue! Lanphier! Get out of there!"  
  
          "Not a chance," Stephanie snarled. Ken was in agony, but she had control of the arm to a degree. They danced a few steps back, dodging the first blows of The Crawdad - only one pincer, only going for the chest. It launched a sudden blow toward their face, and both arms went up to deflect it.   
  
           Stephanie screamed first.  
  
          The pincer holding the blade drove it straight into the chest cavity, plowing through several of the major electrical systems. They began to fail, one after the other; the escape pods, the comm system, the radar...  
  
          "Stephanie."  
  
          Ken's voice was thick, but it drew her back. Just enough. They were going to lose the drift soon; they had to act fast. Stephanie drew herself in, howled, then snapped a hand out and wrenched the blade out of the chest cavity. Ken reached out and grabbed it, and together they slammed it down like a spear - just as The Crawdad scuttled in, lashing out with both pincers.   
  
          They stood stock still, the two giants. One had the metal blade driven straight through its skull, the other had very little holding its torso to its legs. The Crawdad had punched straight through, completely destroying the generators. Ken and Stephanie hung in their harnesses, stunned and in agony.   
  
          And then, the titans fell.   
  
          As the last of the electricity flickered and gave out, there was a distinct moment where Ken reached out and grabbed Stephanie's hand, a distinct moment of impact, and then the briefest flash of panic and fear as the water began to seep in. Hydra sank under the weight of the kaiju, taking her pilots down with her - the final saving grace that could be gifted was the drift failed before they had to die twice, once themselves and a second time for the other.   
  
          Cori's memories had only returned by accident; a punted soccer ball during a game in Seattle hitting her square in the chest had led to a week-long hospital stay, during which she spent most of the time screaming the names of her pilots. She had kept mostly to herself after, doing research not only on Ken and Stephanie but on the deployments of Hydra Corinthian.   
  
          She adopted the name, took Cori as her nickname, and made her way to Sydney to speak to the father of jaegers. Not being the only one had been a comfort, but it was quickly killed by the disappointed that, unlike the Chucks and Yancy's of the world, neither Ken nor Stephanie had returned.   
  
          Had she just failed so utterly that they could not come back?  
  
          She stood up and stepped into the ocean, going up to her waist before stopping. Her vision blurred and she held a hand up to the moon, as though seeking to draw in its light. Gentle waves lapped at her waist, and she closed her eyes and hugged herself, shaking - but not from cold.   
  
          "I'll keep the coffee hot for you, Ken," she whispered into the water, willing the sea to bear her promise to her pilots. But it was neutral as always - caressing her, buffeting her gently, whispering against the sand, unmoved by her struggle.   
  
          She stayed there late into the night, watching the moon rise, with only broken, confused memories and a vain wish to keep her company - that maybe, just maybe, if she kept a coffee pot on one night, Ken or Stephanie would be there in the morning.


End file.
